


An Aversion to Love

by Katlyn1948



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bridgerton (TV) Fusion, Bridgerton Inspired, F/M, Regency Romance, To Sir Phillip With Love inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-23 02:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30048213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katlyn1948/pseuds/Katlyn1948
Summary: Arya Stark thought a summer in the Westerosi countryside would be a perfect escape to the current social season happening in the city. Deemed a spinster, she traveled under the guise of taking care of ailing great aunt, only to be side swept with a shocking revelation. Now she was stuck taking care of a child with a brooding older brother with eyes she had trouble avoiding.Perhaps her aversion to love was just the thing she needed to find it.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Edric "Ned" Dayne & Arya Stark
Comments: 16
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alas...I couldn’t help myself and I wrote this...GOSH what’s wrong with me?? 
> 
> I wasn’t supposed to start another WIP until finished the three that I have!! 
> 
> Anyway...updates are sporadic as always and I don’t know how many chapters this will take to finish...so enjoy the ride as we are on it together.

The Westerosi countryside was a refreshing change of scenery compared to the bustling streets of King’s Landing. Arya had begged her mother for a summer away from the upcoming season, and to much of Catelyn Stark's dismay, she finally conceded and allowed her daughter to skip this year's social season.  
Arya had thought they would be staying at their seaside estate, but her mother insisted on going to the city, if not to display her daughter for marriage, then for the petty gossip that was sure to come of sociable young women parading around to find a husband.

The tantalizing idea of spending her summer at home was quickly dashed when Arya’s mother announced they would indeed be traveling south.

“But mother, there isn’t a need if I’m not to be apart of this year’s season.” Arya tried to convince her mother otherwise, but the woman was set in her ways.

“Nonsense,” she chided. “Just because you wish not to find a husband does not mean we have to make  
ourselves scarce.”

“I haven’t wished to find a husband since you first started parading me around.” She said under a hushed tone so that her mother would not hear. But Catelyn Stark had the uncanny heat anything her children said. Her mother gave her a hard stare, the center of her brows creasing with diffused anger.

“Arya Stark, the only reason I agreed for you to take this season off was due to the fact your last five seasons ended without a husband on your arm. But you are nearing four and twenty! The older you are the harder it is to find a suitable young man. Why, your sister was ten and nine when she married Willas, you should—”

“Yes, yes I’ve heard it all before!” She waved off. “I’ll find a husband when I find a man that is worthy of my hand.”

She slammed the book she held hand a bit forcefully, giving her mother a knowing glare.

“By the gods child, you will be the death of me! Not even your youngest brother objected to marriage!” Catelyn shook her head and gave a defeated sigh. “You really wish not to attend to the city?”

Arya gave a curt nod.

“Very well, I had entertained the idea of you going to the countryside to visit your Great Aunt Branda Rogers. She wished to have your sister, but of course she’s busy building her family. I could send you for the summer. She’s needing help with her estate.”

Arya hadn’t ever heard of a ‘Great Aunt Branda’ but if it meant her escape from the gossip then she would gladly trudge through mud and grime in the Westerosi countryside.  
Which she expected to be lovely. Except for the humidity.

As she was bustling away in her carriage her mother provided, watching the sand dunes change into soft rolling hills, there was an excitement in her bones. It was an area of Westeros she had never ventured to before, yet had longed to see.

Albeit, she was there under the guise of taking care of her ailing Great Aunt, one of whom she’s never met, let alone heard of. According to her mother, she was her father’s aunt...on his mother’s side. She was ancient, by all accounts, and driving her nurses mad. She has requested the company of Sansa, Arya’s much more capable sister, whom she swaddled once as a babe to join her at her estate. But considering Sansa predisposition, Arya it was.

She had no qualms about taking care of an ailing family member, especially one belonging to her father, but she’d never met the woman. Arya had not the slightest inkling as who or what this woman was.  
She was widowed; that much Arya knew, and not just this once. According to her mother, Aunt Branda had married and been widowed three times. All of her husbands had left her with hefty sums, more  
than enough to sustain her for the rest of her life.

Arya had wondered why she was requesting assistance from such distance relatives, surely the woman had had children sometime during her three marriages. Turns out she had one. A son, who perished in the Great War long before Arya had been born.

The poor thing had no one else to turn to.

So yes, although she’d be taking care of woman who was sure to croak in the next day or two, she’d be happy to if meant she was far from social season.

Too bad her hair didn’t agree.

The moment she step foot outside of the carriage, her hair turned to nothing more than a nest atop her head. It wasn’t hot out, no not like the summer heat King’s Landing was sure to give, but it was sticky and dress she had been wearing clung to her icky skin. She gave a grimace as she tugged at the collar of her riding jacket, trying desperately to relieve her body from itself.

“Got to love the humidity.” The footman said as he helped her from the high step of the carriage.

“Is it always like this?”

“During the summer, nearly everyday. It’s worse when it rains. But we’ll get a few days of the perfect summer breeze.” He gave a small smile, whist-fully daydreaming about said days.

“Such things to look forward to.” She said under her breath. So far, the country was shaping up to be a disaster, and Arya had the sinking feeling they were only to get worse.

It didn’t take long for her theory to prove correct.

Her Great Aunt’s estate was largely. Having three inheritances from three dead husbands tend to make someone very rich. Yet, even with the amount of money her Great Aunt was sure to have, Arya noticed that she had not spent one cent on maintaining the grounds.

The bushes were unkept, the ivy climbing up the side of the stone estate, and the branches of the great tree to the right of the house scratched at an upstairs window. The home could also use a fresh coat of paint and perhaps a new door, seeing as it was barely hanging onto the hinges. It was ghastly and something Arya had not expected.  
Of course, she welcomed change. It definitely did not compare to the estate she herself grew up in, but it did have a homey quality. Perhaps it was the rugged look the estates sported that had Arya thinking that it was well used throughout the years.

It she was lucky, perhaps she could convince her Great Aunt to hire gardeners to tend to the outside appearance.

The footman had gathered Arya’s bags and ran them up the front steps, turning and offering his hand as she navigated up the crumbling stone. He gave a sturdy knock, letting the door knocker pound upon the weakening mahogany.

I only took but a minute before a older maid opened the door. Her hair was swept into a tight bun atop her head and her uniform was void of any creases. She had a sour look upon her face and when she took in the sight of Arya, there was a visible scowl.

“You must be Lady Arya.” She hummed in mild disappointment. “I am Mrs. Wheeler, head maid. Your aunt has been waiting for arrival.”

“Yes, well…it was a rather long journey.” Arya tried to amend, but the scowl never left the maid’s face.

“I’ll have my son, Becker, come and collect your bags from the step and set them in your room.” She turned to the footman then. “Thank you, sir. Now be on your way.”

The footman gave a quick nod before turning on his heel and descending the stairs.

Mrs. Wheeler pushed the door open wider to allow Arya to enter, letting her shuffle past and into the foyer.

It was grand, to say the least, but a little drab. The curtains along the foyer had not been changed in what seemed like a century and there were several vases of dead flowers littering the side tables throughout. However, the marble floors were impeccably shiny, given the rough interior.

Mrs. Wheeler began walking past the foyer, giving no indication for Arya to follow. It was only when she was down the hall, that she turned back, giving Arya another scowl. “Please follow.”

Arya scurried behind her, weaving through the home until the came across two large doors. Mrs. Wheeler gave a swift knock, before pulling at the handle and opening one for the doors. She motioned for Arya to enter. “Your aunt is wanting to see. Do not keep Lady Rogers waiting.”

Arya gave a small nod of thanks and entered what she assumed to be the drawing room. It was mint green in color and there were painting adorning near every inch of wall. A tray of sweets and cheese laid about on a wooden table, and mass of graying hair jutted from behind a tall chair.

Arya rounded the corner, coming face to face with an aunt she had never seen nor heard of before.

She was an aging thing, yet not as old as her Old Nan. Her face was taut, not with a scowl, but rather a pout of mild disgust. She wore a black dress, with frilled laced scattered about the end of her sleeves and bust. Her hair was done up in an intricate style and she had a walking cane nestled beside her chair. There was a biscuit between her thumb and forefinger of her lace gloved hand. She seemed to be holy unaware of Arya’s presence as she nibble on her biscuit, only stoping to take a sip of her tea.

Arya shifted from foot to foot. She had yet to take a seat across from her aunt, for fear of disrespect, and decided to wait (although difficult) patiently for her to speak.

“Well are you just going to stand there like an idiot, or are you going to take a seat?” Her aunt grumbled out in between bite of her biscuit.

Arya gave a quick nod before taking her seat across from her aunt. She promptly placed her hand in her lap, waiting for the conversation to evolve.

“Well don’t just sit there. Grab some biscuits and tea. I didn’t have the cook prepare this for it not to be eaten.” She waved about as she grabbed for another biscuit.

Arya shook her head, “I’m not hungry, thank you.”

“Pish posh! I know you’ve been traveling for days. Take some.” It wasn’t a request, but rather a demand, and Arya though it best not to refuse a second time. She grab a biscuit (or two) and set them on a napkin as she nestled them in her palm. There was already a cup of tea set out for her, the cream and sugar left on the side. She threw a few sugar cubes in the warm liquid and watched as they dissolved before giving the tea a quick stir, taking a sip to wash the bit of biscuit from her mouth.

There was a long silence between them as they munched on their tea and biscuits and Arya found it deafening. Here was this woman she had never met before, who certainly didn’t look like she need assistance, munching about and having afternoon tea as if she didn’t summon Arya from half across the state.

The only reason she agreed (well, not the only reason) to come out to the country instead of begging to stay in her own family’s estate was because her mother said her Great Aunt Branda was ill and needing help around her home. The woman in front of her was not ill and, aside from the horrid appearance on the outside of the estate, needed no help around the house.

“You must be wondering why I summoned you girl.” Her aunt finally said after her fifteenth biscuit.

Arya cleared her throat and took a sip of her tea for good measure, “I did find it odd that you were such in a welcoming mood. From my understanding, you were to ailing.”

Aunt Branda gave a conceited snort, “Please! Me, ailing? I am in tip top shape. I only said that so that your mother would be more inclined to send you. Albeit, I thought it your sister, considering she’d taken care of a few children in her time. She has two broods now, correct?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Yes, I needed someone capable. But imagine my surprise when I received your mother’s letter stating that you would be arriving instead. Speak of your mother, does she still have that rather large stick up her bum? I’ve never liked her, you know. Your father was too good for her.”

“Aunt Branda, if you could ple—”

“I heard your eldest brother is doing well for himself, managing your family’s estate and what not after your father’s passing. And that cousin of yours, in the military, no? Always thought he would be.”

“Aunt Branda—” Arya tried, yet again, to get her aunt’s attention, but it was no match for the rambling woman.

“And your youngest brothers, both married I heard. It seems you’re the only one out of that bunch still looking for a husband. Well not to worry dear, trust me when I say that they are not worth it. They just end up dying on you. Nonetheless, I’m sure you can catch on quite quickly.”

Arya hesitated before speaking, for fear that her aunt’s ramblings were not yet over. But when a few good seconds passed and there were no more words coming out of her aunt’s mouth, she decided to was safe to talk.

“Aunt Branda,” She gave a curt sigh. “Why exactly am I here, if not to take care of you?”

“Right, of course.” She snatched another biscuit off the tray. “Have you ever taken care of a child?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya has a reaction to her Great Aunt's question and a revelation comes to light as to the true reason why Arya in the Westerosi countryside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you updates were sporadic....although I am having fun writing this story!! 
> 
> Anyway, more to come soon...I hope.

Arya wasn’t sure if she heard her great aunt correctly , but with her unblinking eyes and her expectant face, it was clear she was waiting for an answer. 

“I beg your pardon ?” Arya managed to stammer out. She was still unsure if her great aunt had asked her the question she truly heard, or if per haps, her tired mind was playing tricks on her.  Had she ever taken care of child? That was such an odd question, that surely it wasn’t what was actually asked…was it? 

Branda Rodgers rolled her weary grey eyes, obviously annoyed by Arya’s lack of attention.  “It’s a simple question, dear. Have you ever taken care of a child?” 

Arya nearly dropped the tea cup that was held in her hand. So her great  aunt  _ had _ asked that question. Why ask such a peculiar thing? Of course she’s taken care of child! Albeit, only for a few hours and their nurse was always with them. She hadn’t been given the  prestige opportunity to take care of her nieces or nephews for  an overnight stay, but she could manage a bunch for a few hours, if she must. But why would she  need to know how to take care of a child? Surely her great aunt didn’t have a  hobbledehoy running about. It would be hard to believe that a woman of her age would have such a thing. Nonetheless, she could manage taking care of small human  if she needed to. 

“Well, I have plenty of nieces and nephews. I’ve taken care of a few of them through the years. ” 

Branda waved her hand, dismissing Arya’s answer. “Yes, yes. I’m sure your olde r siblings have taken their broods to your mother’s manor from time to time, but have you taken care of child ? Have you bathed a child, fed a child, played with a child? Do you know how to be a mother of sorts?” 

“ If your asking if I can keep a child  alive , then yes, I suppose I can take care of child.” She said a bit forcefully, not fully knowing where this current conversation was going. 

“Hmm,”  Branda shrugged. “I suppose that’s good enough. ” 

Arya looked at her great aunt in slight disbelief. How could she throw such questions at her and not even inform her of  why she was interrogating her? Was her great aunt planning to breed her like some brood mare ? Surely not. Her aunt was still an aristocrat and believed in maintaining some reputation. It’s just rather odd why she would need to know if Arya was  capable of taking care of someone that wasn’t herself. 

“Aunt  Branda ?” She dared to ask. Her aunt looked up from hooded lids,  giving Arya an annoyed look. She was munching on yet another biscuit and had filled her tea cup with a liquid that looked reminiscent of brandy.  “I was wondering…why ask me such a que stion? Do you…do you have a child?” 

Her aunt barked out a hearty laugh, “By the gods, girl, I’m ancient! That would be a miracle and one I’m sure to die from . No…I do not have a child.” 

“Then why must I know how to take care of a ch ild?” 

Branda sighed and brushed her lace gloved hands on her dress . She took her teacup and took a large swing, wincing only slightly, as the amber liquid poured down her t hroat. When she placed the teacup on the side table to her left, she looked up at Arya with  hard eyes. It was different from the annoyed look she was used to seeing her aunt don, even in the short thirty minutes  she had known her. 

“There’s a boy—a man really, who lives down the way.  He came into a rather large sum of money and took over his estranged father’s estate.  Turns out, it wasn’t just money  his father left him. The man was notorious for dipping his candle in wax he wasn’t supposed to. Put his poor wife in an early grave because of it. ”  Branda looked as if she wanted to murder the man, if he wasn’t already dead. “ Anyway, a tavern wench showed up two years before his demise, dumping a babe on his doorstep.  He tried his best to take of the girl, but hadn’t the slightest idea on how to take care of her. When he died and his son came to collect his estate, there was a child waiting for him. Now, I’ve sen t a few of my maids over to assist, but the boy really does need help.  I’ve commissioned you to go over  a few days during the week to assist. ” 

“I be your pardon!” Arya stood from her seat, letting the napkin and half eaten biscuit she had in her lap fall to  the floor. She had tried to remain civil and calm with her great aunt, even as she insulted nearly everyone in her family , but this was  too much to handle. She wanted her to take care of stranger’s baby! She hardly knew how to take care of herself !  If she had known that this was her aunt’s agenda, she would have rather endured another tasteless season with even  more tasteless men. 

“ You want me to take care of a child ? A stranger’s chi ld? I don’t even want children!  I cannot do this!” She huffed, feeling the heat of her cheeks creep to her ears.  Her face always turned to a unruly shade of red when something or someone ruffled her fur. 

Branda gave her an icy glare as she stood from her own chair, using her walking stick to lift herself up.  She shuffled over to where Arya was standing,  and although she was a head shorter than Arya, she made herself tall. “Listen to me, girl.  I do not care to know about your personal life. I do not care if you remain a spinster your whole life.  I asked for a niece and a niece I obtained. I expect her  do as I say . Do you understand me?” 

“I-I…” Arya was left speechless, an d frankly, a bit scared. Not even her Old Nan had talked to her such a manner. Sure, she could be a bit  outspoken, and has gotten punished a fair amount of times for her mouth. But never has anyone made her co wer. So, she simply nodded and took her to her seat, picking up the  discarded biscuit from the floor. 

“Good, now it’s time for my afternoon nap. Rest up, dear, tomo rrow you’ll meet the child.” 

* * *

Arya was pacing about her room. She was shown to her quarters soon after her aunt left her in the drawing room. The head maid, Mrs. Wheeler had introduced Alysiana, a young thing of only eighteen years old who had taken up employment as a maid in her aunt’s manor at just twelve. She was to attend to Arya and whatever her needs may be. 

Alysiana had taken Arya up the grand staircase, weaving through the hallways before bringing her to a room right in the front of the manor, the one with the scratchy tree mucking about right outside the window. 

It was a large room, perfect for Arya, and even had a rather large bookshelf with an extensive collection of historical documents. Arya had made it note to peek when she had the chance. There was a four-poster bed with a canopy and an area to allow for a water basin. She even had a chamber pot nestled in the corner and a large wardrobe to house her belongings. 

“Lady Arya, miss, you will wear a hole in the  floorboards with all that pacing.” Alysiana hummed as she began unpacking Arya’s things in the wardrobe. 

“Please, Alysiana, I’ve told you to call me Arya. Just Arya. And I’m sorry,” She sighed as she finally took a seat on the bed. She had been pacing for the last hour contemplating how she could manage her escape from her aunt, who was so clearly deranged. “This whole situation is absurd! Honestly, how does my aunt expect me to take of a child I have no relation to?” 

“I think it rather tragic.” Alysiana mused. She had finished with one of Arya’s trunks and moved on to the next, carefully placing the delicate linens within a draw of the wardrobe. “The poor young lord came into money  _ and _ a child all within a two-day span.” 

“The child truly has no one else?” Arya asked. 

Alysiana shook her head, “No my lady—I mean Arya. It is just the young lord, the child and the young lord’s younger brother.” 

“He has a brother too?” She said with an  exasperated sigh. 

Alysiana nodded, “He’s still a green boy from what I hear, no more than ten and nine. He’s to be going to university once the summer ends. He was also a product of their father’s infidelity. The young lord and his brother do not share the same mother.” 

Arya shook her head. She could not imagine her father betraying her mother like that. As far as she knew, her father was faithful up until his last breath. It was true, there were some disagreements between her mother and father, but what good respectable couple didn’t have their squabbles? Granted, she was at the center of most of those squabbles, but from what she could remember, her mother and father loved each other dearly. 

“That’s horrible! And the young lord’s mother...she was the wife?” 

Alysiana gave a quick nod, “She didn’t come from much money, from what I hear, but still a respectable family. It is a shame that Lord Baratheon did the things he did, especially to someone as sweet as Lady Norah.” 

“So, you’ve met the late lord and lady?” Arya inquired. She was trying to gain as much  information as she could from the young maid. If it was one thing Arya knew, was that the help were notorious gossips. Even the maids and butlers within her own family home did not know how to keep their mouths shut. 

“Just once, when your aunt hosted a ball. I was thirteen. Unfortunately, Lord Gendry was not with them. He was off at university of the sorts. Although, Lord Baratheon’s bastard son, Edric was with them. I didn’t see much of them, but I do recall the striking blue of the lord’s and his son’s eyes.” Alysiana explained. 

“Then there isn’t much you can tell me about the young lord...Gendry, you said his name was.” 

“Yes, that’s right. And I afraid not. Although, his maids that I see in the market have nothing but wonderful things to say about him. I think it’s because he’s handsome...or so I’m told.” 

Arya had hit another wall. She had hoped Alysiana had some information on the young lord whose manor she’d be visiting come the morning. Aside from his name and who all lived in the manor, she hadn’t the slightest idea about who he was as a person. If she was to be spending time with his young sister for the entire summer, then she ought to know who the child’s big brother was. 

Perhaps she would have time to chat with when tomorrow came around. 

Of course, she had no doubt she would have a chaperone, Alysiana seemed the likely choice and that would mean she would have to hold her tongue on things she truly wanted to say. Even though she had some measure of respect for the young maid, it didn’t mean she trusted her with her secrets. It was going to take a lot before Arya came around to letting Alysiana know anything without the fear of her great aunt knowing. 

There was only one person Arya could trust with her secrets, and that was herself. Of course, there was her sister, but she and Sansa had only begun to mend their relationship. It still had ways to go before they came anywhere close to spilling secrets. Then there was Nymeria, her husky she had to leave with her mother while she came up to the countryside. She could tell the mutt anything and know that those secrets would never be revealed. And of course, there was her journal. She would scribble in the thing as often as she could, letting her wild thoughts fill the fresh pages with smudged ink. She kept the leather-bound journal tucked away in a hidden compartment within her trunk where only she knew of its whereabouts. 

If anyone, especially her mother, were to come into possession of her journal surely then, her reputation would be ruined. 

“I’m all done with putting away your things, Lady Arya. Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave you for the evening?” Alysiana asked, bringing Arya out of her daze. 

“No, Alysiana. Thank you.” 

“Of course. I shall be by early in the morning to help ready yourself for tomorrow. I will be chaperoning, per your aunt’s request. One must not leave a lady of your stature alone in a manor with two unwed men. Think of the scandal!” 

Arya tried to stifle a laugh, “Yes, of course, the scandal!” 

Alysiana didn’t noticed the sarcastic inflection in Arya’s voice and simply nodded in agreement, “I’ll you to your evening.” 

The young maid curtseyed and took her leave, giving Arya the space she so desperately craved. Between the journey here and the event conversation she had with her aunt; her head was spinning. This was all so much to take in. Surely, her mother knew of the situation before agreeing to let her unmarried daughter to venture to the  Westerosi countryside. 

Then again, if her mother truly knew of her aunt’s intentions then she would be moping about in their estate in King’s Landing, preparing to endure another horrible season. She supposed that it was the lesser of two evils. On the one hand, she could be sipping distasteful wine with prudish men and women of society, pretending to listen to whatever boring conversation they were having about whatever gossip ran amok between them. Or she could grin and bear it and take the short carriage ride to the manor of Lord Gendry Baratheon to take care of child she knew nothing about. 

Surely it wouldn’t be all bad...right?


End file.
